Read Love... From Both Sides (A laugh-out-loud romantic comedy) Online
Authors: Nick Spalding
…well enough to send a five year relationship with me down the drain, anyway.
Enough
!
I spilled this all out last year in these pages. We don’t need a repeat performance.
Needless to say all the tears and misery come flooding back as Mike strolls up to the counter - that
oh-so
charming lop-sided smile plastered across his face.
‘What are you doing here Mike?’ I ask, from roughly ten thousand miles away.
‘I would have come in sooner. It just took this long to work up the courage.’
‘What do you mean?’ I drop the half-eaten sandwich. My appetite has deserted me.
‘I’ve been walking past for a few weeks now. Every time I think about coming in, you look busy with customers so I don’t. How’s the shop doing?’
‘It’s… it’s doing fine, thanks.
Why
have you been walking past?’
‘To see you, baby.’ He looks genuinely sad. ‘I miss you so much.’
‘You miss me?’
‘Yeah. Of course I do.’
‘What about
Le-Anne?
’
He contrives to look guilty. ‘Well, we didn’t work out in the end.’ Those big green Irish eyes look deep into mine. ‘She just wasn’t you,
hun
.’
It’s impossible to describe the mixture of emotions that cascaded through me.
I open and close my mouth a couple of times like a hungry guppy, before pulling my wits together enough to respond.
‘I’m seeing somebody,’ I say, altogether too quickly. Jamie’s kind, open face pops into my head. ‘It’s too late for us.’
Mike actually looks like he’s about to cry. ‘I was afraid you’d say that. Should have known you’d get snapped up by somebody else. I’m so sorry I left you. I was an idiot.’
‘Yes. Yes you were.’
‘But I realise that now. I love you, Laura. Always have. Is there
any
chance for us? Do you like this guy that much?’
…God help me,
I don’t know.
I should be showing him the door. I should be telling him this boat has sailed. I should be kicking him to the curb.
But damn me, I’m
not
.
Jamie’s face is replaced by the five years I spent with Mike: The holiday to
Koh
Samui
. The way he used to nibble my toes. The long weekend in
Paris
. The way he’d kiss my neck just behind the ear. The Christmas at his parent’s house in Donegal. The feel of his hands moving across my breasts. The smile. The green eyes…
Oh bloody hellfire.
‘You dumped me for another woman, Mike.’ I’m trying to keep some steel in my voice. It’s not working.
‘I know. I’m an idiot. I threw the best thing I ever had away.’ He moves around the counter, removing the barrier between us. ‘Please Laura. Just come out with me. We can talk. Then if you want, I’ll just leave you alone.’
Somehow, he’s taken my hand in his. I didn’t notice it happen.
‘I don’t know, Mike.’
‘For old time’s sake, if nothing else?’
The eyes have it.
‘Okay. Next week sometime.’ Jamie’s face reappears in my head. I feel terrible.
‘Great. I’ll call you. Same number, yeah?’
I nod, dumbfounded by this turn of events.
‘Great.’ He turns and notices an old couple walking into the shop. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
I don’t even flinch when he leans forward and kisses my cheek.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This man put me through the emotional wringer and here I am contemplating letting him back in my life again.
I watch Mike leave, my jaw slack.
The timing is incredible.
I finally meet a new man and the old one comes barging back in, turning everything upside down.
I’m consumed by guilt at agreeing to meet Mike for a drink. There’s a part of me that loathes the ease with which he talked me into it.
Jamie doesn’t deserve this.
But how the hell else am I supposed to feel? Mike was my
entire life
for five years. I’ve known Jamie a few weeks. I don’t have the history with him… or the memories.
And let’s not forget that he was the guy who gave me food poisoning.
So what’s worse, McIntyre? Breaking your heart or giving you the galloping shits?
Good point…
Damn it.
I’m seeing Mike on Thursday night, Mum.
I’m nervous, excited, sickened, ashamed and angry - all in equal measure.
He’s got a lot of explaining to do, but God help me, I do want to hear what he’s got to say.
I’m seeing Jamie tomorrow as well… though I might try to get out of it.
I owe it to the poor guy to get my head straight before anything else happens with him.
What’s a girl to do, Mum?
Your confused daughter, Laura.
xx
Wednesday 21 September
I knew something was wrong with Laura the second she answered the phone.
There was a reluctance in her voice she couldn’t disguise. It sounded like she couldn’t wait to hang up.
Until yesterday, she’d always sounded happy to speak to me, but when I rang her at work mid-afternoon there was a definite change.
‘So what do you fancy doing this evening?’ I asked.
‘Um. Not sure. Might just have the evening in actually. Quite tired.’
Hmmm.
She’d sounded keen about getting together the last time we’d spoken on Sunday. Something was definitely wrong.
‘Okay. How about I just come over and hang out for a while?’
‘I don’t know Jamie.’
The cold clammy feeling that had been settling in across the back of my neck got worse. I tried to ignore it.
‘I won’t stay long if you’re tired. I’d really like to see you though.’
‘Yeah… okay. Come over at
.’ Her voice was dull.
Maybe she was just tired.
Or maybe she’s decided she’s had enough of you.
I said goodbye and hung up with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
I didn’t have a clue what I’d done wrong.
I certainly hadn’t poisoned her again.
The sex had been pretty fantastic from my point of view… hers too, judging from the noises she’d been making. I hadn’t made any social faux pas (much to my surprise) and had been on my most charming behaviour every time I’d seen her.
I literally had
no
idea what the problem could be.
It was therefore with some trepidation that I rocked up at her flat that evening.
‘
Hiya
,’ she says, the smile on her face a bit forced.
‘Hi,’ I reply. I’m too worried to smile.
‘Come in Jamie.’
The rather formal use of my name doesn’t bode well.
Neither does the way she ever so slightly backs away when I lean in to give her a kiss.
‘Is something the matter Laura?’ Two can play at the formal game.
I don’t get a reply immediately, but I know the dreaded phrase ‘
we need to talk
’ is fast homing into view like a runaway oil tanker.
Say anything else, woman.
Tell me you’ve come down with herpes.
Tell me you have to leave the country because the KGB has caught up with you.
Tell me you’ve been in contact with your home world and are being called back to the Orion Nebula.
‘We need to talk.’
Bollocks, fuck and shit.
‘Alright,’ I sigh deeply and make my way through to the lounge like a man headed to the gallows.
She sits in the chair across the room from me, a sure sign she’s about to say something unpleasant.
‘You’re not about to tell me you’ve won the lottery, are you?’ I say, trying to make light of the situation.
She smiles in a half-hearted way. ‘No.’
‘Go on then. Put me out of my misery.’ I point a finger at her. ‘But if you don’t want to see me anymore because of the bloody fajita thing, I won’t be happy.’
‘I don’t want to stop seeing you.’
Well, that’s unexpected.
A small bloom of hope makes the stupid mistake of forming in my chest.
‘Then why have you got a face like a bulldog chewing a piss covered thistle?’ I can’t help it. I get crude when I’m nervous.
‘It’s just that… I have to… I don’t want… Oh for fuck’s sake.’ She puts her head in her hands.
‘Make like your head and come to a point, woman.’ I know this isn’t really the time for banter, but I can’t help myself.
‘My ex Mike came into the shop the other day. He wants to see me again. Says he misses me and wants me back.’ This came out very fast in one breath, like she wanted it out there as quickly as possible.
In these situations, a man more in control of his emotions (and one more experienced with the vagaries of the female mind) would have handled things
much
better.
I’d only been seeing Laura for a few weeks, and this guy – who she’d told me about only a week beforehand in one of those ‘who’s ex is worse’ conversations you always have early in a relationship – had been a part of her life for half a decade.
Of course
she’d still be conflicted about it.
Of course
she couldn’t just brush his reappearance off without a thought.
Of course
I should let her explain.